The Meaning of the Word
by Xinthos
Summary: Sakura stares at Ino's retreating back, standing quietly apathetic in the wreckage of something that should have been beautiful. Three-Shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Thanks to atiledaanen for reviving my love for Naruto (which is not mine, by the way). Re uploaded the chapters to exclude the author's notes - I think they distract from the story when the chapters are so short. I intended the parts to be like little jabs to the stomach, but as to how effective... that's for everyone else to decide. So... just this note. Thanks to all that reviewed, and everyone that reads as well! Hope you enjoy :)

Please R&R

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Ino fucks her mercilessly, every single time.

It's funny, kind of, to see Sakura pinned beneath her. There is something so deliciously ironic about the wrists pinned above her head, the ankles bound apart, the cliché grinding of her teeth together. The whole scene looks like an extremist's porno, a BDSM tryst gone horror movie. Here she is, this pink-haired powerhouse bound by nothing more than some plain rope and a few empty threats. Anywhere else, any other time, she could rap her knuckles against the headboard and send Ino's whole apartment crumbling.

But here, under the touch of Ino's cruel, unforgiving, torturous hands, Sakura lies still. Straight from a Halloween slasher film are the bloody sheets, the bloody skin, Ino's bloody kunai. Bruises like deep water. Gashes like liquid magma. On these occasions Sakura feels like an actress performing someone's gothic poetry, except the stage holds only one set, and the ending is always the same.

A kunai is half an inch into her skin, just above her naval. A practiced hand makes quick, familiar slashes. Sakura's skin has seen these scars before, and Ino watches as healing chakra traces the bloody lines. Like magic the chasm in Sakura's skin closes. Only a sizeable lake of warm blood is left behind, and Ino is glad she invested in dark bedding for these events.

There are tears too, but she pays no attention to these. They are constant with Sakura. An endless stream with temporal qualities, making her look just like she had when she was five and bullied, twelve and ignored, seventeen and on Ino's doorstep with a death wish. That was almost six months ago.

Ino takes a careful once over of Sakura's face. She can tell by her bloody companion's expression that kunai is not enough today. Not needing an answer, Ino doesn't bother to ask before cutting the ropes around Sakura's ankles and flipping her over, face down. Before Sakura can take a breath Ino is on top of her, around her, inside of her.

There is something so precious about these moments, Ino thinks, thrusting her hips forward brutally. Sakura makes a noise like an attempt at words, but Ino is quick to shut her up.

"_Fuck_ you," the blond snarls with every scrap of hatred she can find. There are many. By a fistful of pink hair, green eyes and bloody lips are shoved unbearably into the mattress.

Ino knows she is screaming now, 'I hate yous' stealing the silence like they're recorded on a broken record. But like the rapid motion of her hips it is hopelessly beyond her control.

"Goddamn it," she says, softly now, feeling Sakura's body tense with the pressure of orgasm. Sweat and tears and blood that's not hers are sticky in her hair, on her face, between her breasts. Feeling Sakura go limp, Ino lifts the bloody face off her mattress.

Sakura is silent as she turns herself onto her back. She stares dazed and doe-eyed at the blond who is still leaning over her, examining her handiwork. Self-hatred coils inside of Ino like a spring.

"Can I kiss you?" She asks the limp body under her, not expecting an answer and not needing permission. But she asks because she knows this is not part of the brutal ritual they have concocted together. This is not for Sakura's sake, not to help ease her self-loathing, or stop the agonizing helplessness she feels at all hours of the day. No, this is for Ino's sake. For the tenderness she never gets, for the guilt of torturing a comrade.

Sakura may be on the receiving end of Ino's blows, but Ino suffers from something far more profound. Her mind is the ground zero between morality and pleasure. Desperately she tries to crush the first for the sake of Sakura's morbid coping mechanisms, but tender feelings pluck at her heartstrings. Hedonism and love are not coexisting, and Ino cynically finds this unfortunate.

"You know I don't really hate you," she says. _I love you_, she means. She hates the way her voice shakes.

Ino kisses her, and it is soft and tender and so agonizingly hopeless- Sakura, that fiery girl she loves from head to toe to hangnail, is unresponsive.

And Ino knows more than anyone how much more it hurts to be the one inflicting the pain.

_But_, she thinks as she slaps Sakura so hard her neck nearly cracks, _at least she is beautiful this way._ The sheen of sweat, the afterglow of orgasm, the flush of blood right beneath the skin. The shine of eyes slicked with tears. They are brought together by their desperateness, and Ino bruises under the knowledge that she'll never be big enough, never be good enough, never be man enough to replace what Sakura feels she has lost. As the left side of Sakura's face turns a brilliant red, Ino comforts her conscience with the thought that, at least, _pain is beautiful._

But she knows the ending is always the same.


	2. Chapter 2

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Ino has hit her before, many times, in various ways and in countless places. But the slap that Sakura receives on a sunny afternoon while they are eating lunch is different – because they are in public.

"You hit like a girl." Sakura feels the stinging and knows that ninjas don't slap. Ninjas throw punches, and somehow this justifies her reaction, that this is all she can think to say.

Of course it's not true. There isn't a place on Sakura's body that hand hasn't injured.

The look in Ino's eyes is one of betrayal. It's not something that can be so easily brushed off as anger or bitterness, although she knows that Ino is likely both these things as well. Sakura masochistically commits the expression to memory.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Naruto had tearfully told her all he remembered about his last battle with Sasuke. He described what their missing teammate had said to him, and how he had looked: the way he gritted his teeth like he was filing them with gravel. The look on his face, Naruto told her, made it seem like he had never felt anything but sorry for the day he was born. Absolutely desolate.

She thinks he must have looked like Ino.

Some of the patrons begin to stand up, feeling the threat of impending violence. Sakura's skin prickles under the stares, but she ignores the scraping of chairs as people prepare to either leave or intervene.

"You're still thinking about it now." It is not a question, but Sakura recognizes that there is a right and wrong answer. Ino is livid, and Sakura feels the anger is unfair.

"Don't be selfish, Ino, you have no idea what it feels like. How can you expect me to think about anything else?" Wrong answer.

"Selfish?" The fists relax and the murderous energy is gone, and for a moment Sakura thinks that maybe the danger has passed and, miraculously, she's managed to avoid this scene. It's not the embarrassment, it's the familiarity of the argument that Sakura hates. It covers both of them like dust on an old stage set. Even when they think they've managed to brush off the grime, it just gathers in a cloud around them, dark and dirty and suffocating.

But it's not her fault they're always fighting, Sakura tells herself. Ino can't understand what it's like to lose everything, everyone, to be left behind because _I am useless and weak and not worth shit_-

The memories, all of them, are smothering her.

Ino struggles for words, and Sakura realizes that memories are smothering Ino, too. "You don't know the meaning of the word," Ino finally says, letting out a shallow breath.

She puts down a bill and grabs her bag. She is walking away. They grew up together, Sakura remembers, and now they are both going to die together under the weight of their own regrets. It's fitting, she thinks morbidly. They are going to drown together.

Sakura stares at Ino's retreating back, standing quietly apathetic in the wreckage of something that should have been beautiful.

Asphyxiation is a slow death.


	3. Chapter 3

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Ino is not selfish.

This is something she's recognized since she was coherent enough to have values. She does not believe in ambition for the sake of one's self, or the thought of stepping on others to climb the proverbial ladder. Therefore, despising Sasuke came naturally.

Even before his family had been murdered he was always a selfish kid, demanding admiration and respect but refusing to acknowledge the people who gave it to him. He was an ungrateful, spoiled, haughty boy. The only kind the Uchiha family seemed able to produce at the time.

This is not something Ino ever plans on telling Sakura, however. She can insult her all she wants, but Ino knows she'll only be proving the point if she defends herself. Ino is proud of what she has done for Sakura; mentioning it would just be rubbing it in, erasing the goodness from the good deeds.

But that doesn't mean it's easy. It doesn't mean she doesn't want to scream that Sakura is a blind idiot when she shows up in her apartment a week after their explosive lunch excursion. But over and over again Sakura proves herself to be incompetent, and Ino's resolve is evaporating like she'd spilled it on a sidewalk in July.

"It's like you think the idea of playing Russian roulette with our feelings gets me off," she hears Sakura say. Ino is having a hard time resisting the bait.

"I don't have to think about it. I know _exactly_ what gets you off." The implication is clear, and Sakura pretends the color of her face is anger induced. And besides, Ino thinks, there's only supposed to be one loser in Russian roulette.

There are two bullets in this gun.

But she has the advantage now. Sakura takes a hesitant step backwards when Ino approaches her.

"So if your plan isn't just to use me for your emotionally sadistic bullshit, what the _fuck_ do you want from me then?" Ino shoves, one, two, three times, until the back of Sakura's head connects with her living room wall. Sakura's jaw snaps shut from the rebound of her skull, closing around the tip of her tongue.

"Funny that you think _I'm_ sadistic." Blood sprays from Sakura's mouth when she says 'think,' and Ino doesn't bother to wipe it off her face.

"You think I enjoy doing this to you?"

"Don't you?"

Ino is horrified.

"You're a moron if you really think that."

"How am I supposed to know?" Sakura asks, not able to hide her embarrassment with Ino so close to her face.

"How could you _not_ know is the better question. Are you honestly that stupid?"

"I just figured you wouldn't be doing it if you didn't want to. It's not like you do me favors without wanting something in return," Sakura mutters, "not since we were kids anyway."

_Bang_. The first bullet goes off.

"You ungrateful _bitch!_"

Sakura does not struggle when Ino picks her up by the neck and slams her into the wall again. Her head smacks the wood, but this time she makes sure to clench her teeth. Violently, her head meets the floor next, and she knows the side of her skull is probably split a little bit. That's annoying, she thinks. Washing blood out of hair is a bitch.

The glass table is next. Sakura remembers when Ino bought it at an outdoor market four months ago, saying it was the only thing with any value in the whole place. Its base is made of a wood whose color is soaked up from the Earth itself, and an oblong piece of glass rests on top. Always the bargain hunter, Ino had bought the masterly crafted thing for less than the cost of lunch. It's a shame, Sakura thinks as she crashes through it so hard even the marble edges crack. It was a nice table.

Ino makes no move to help Sakura out of the pile of splintered wood and debris, despite the large piece of glass going through her left side.

"I'd help you up, but it was a pain in the ass having to throw you around like that. And you wouldn't appreciate it anyway," Ino adds pointedly.

Sakura mumbles something incoherent, head lolling to the side when she starts to cough up blood.

"I couldn't hear you."

"I said," Sakura clears her throat, enjoying the squelching of liquids it produces, "you need to dust your ceiling. There are dead bugs in your chandelier."

It's just like Sakura to make a joke out of her feelings.

"Just… shut up and fix yourself already," Ino grumbles, uncomfortable with the amount of blood all over her floor. Sakura may be the second best medic-nin in Konoha, maybe even among the five nations, but she can't heal herself if she's unconscious.

Sakura hums like she's considering it, as if Ino had just asked her to switch the radio station instead of save her own life.

"No," she finally says, "I don't think I will."

"Yes, you will."

"No, I won't."

"Stop being stupid, Sakura," Ino snaps. Sakura always heals herself.

"No, I won't," she repeats like a child throwing a tantrum. Except there is a smile on her face.

"Why?" Ino hopes she doesn't sound as panicky as she's beginning to feel.

"Why not? It's all hopeless, anyway. I don't know what made me think I could change anyone's mind."

"Naruto needs you," Ino interjects, her pride not allowing her to acknowledge the crack in her voice. "Imagine how heartbroken he would be if he came back and you weren't here to greet him."

"Naruto will move on, he doesn't need me around. He only wants Sasuke back."

It's all just a game. Sakura is just toying with her, like she always does. She doesn't really want to die. She won't let herself. She's only going to make Ino admit that she was wrong and apologize.

"And me?"

Sakura looks forward, eyes unfocused but pondering.

"You're really about to let yourself die and you won't even mention me? Do I not even count enough for that?" She tries to sound sarcastic, but the intended bite comes out more like a whimper.

"You," Sakura starts and trails off. Her eyes close, and for one panic-stricken moment Ino thinks she is really dead. "You," she continues, coming back to life, "will live. Someday you'll inherit your clan, and you'll lead it like your dad did and honor the next group of Ino-Shika-Chou, and you'll find a nice man to settle down with. He'll treat you like a princess and you'll live happily ever after," Sakura finishes, sounding satisfied with her fairytale.

"Men are dirt." Ino's response is reflexive. It's a thought that she has come to accept as part of herself. Minus the few (very few) exceptions in her life, she finds this to be unwaveringly true. Sakura takes a moment to consider this.

"I once knew a little girl that looked just like you, who would have disagreed."

"Then you obviously didn't know her very well."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sakura sits up a little bit at this remark, looking annoyed. Ino moves to sit down on the couch, letting the blood on the floor turn her blue sandals a deep purple.

"I suppose you mean that little girl that once picked your crying ass off the side of the road?"

Sakura rolls her eyes, ignoring the jab. "Yes, that one."

"The one you thought was in love with that little bastard?"

"No, I mean the one I _know_ was in love with that- with him."

"Did you ever ask her?"

"Of course I did."

Ino was on the floor and in Sakura's face in a second, knees and palms a quarter inch deep in the liquid staining her hardwood.

"Did you?"

Did she? Sakura can't remember now.

"I must have, I mean, how else would I…" But she knows how else. Sakura remembers the day that bitch who used to pick on her pulled her aside and spread that nasty rumor.

"I don't understand." She says the words like she is spelling them out letter by letter, unable to put them together to make a coherent sentence. So much would not make sense if Ino had not loved Sasuke, or at least become infatuated with him. There are too many holes to fill, too many blank spaces in their relationship if that was true. Sakura can tell by Ino's fervent expression that she was expecting her to put the pieces together.

"I don't understand," she says again.

"Did it ever occur to you," Ino begins, voice gentle but trembling with agonizing impatience, "that there could be other reasons I let you end our friendship over something so stupid?"

Ino lifts her hand to brush Sakura's hair out of her eyes. Her hair is getting long again, and Ino knows she's going to have to cut it soon. She feels her commitment to silence slipping through her fingers with Sakura's blood.

She knows the best good deeds are the ones that go unacknowledged. But she also knows that, sometimes, the biggest favor you can do is to do none at all. Kindness had never done much for either of them, except turn Sakura into an airhead and Ino into a martyr.

"I was hoping things would change," the blond mumbles, mostly to herself, "but it looks like it's going to be my job to kick your ass for as long as we're together."

"What's that s'posed to mean?" Ino takes a good look at the delirious girl almost passing out in front of her. _The idiot is really going to let herself die._

"It means that since the day I saved your sorry behind I knew you weren't cut out to be a kunoichi."

Sakura's already shallow breathing hitched for a moment and continued unperturbed.

"Obviously you were right if I'm weak enough to die two buildings down from a hospital."

Ino shakes her head, not bothering to laugh at the morbid joke. "You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. I've had more family members than I can count on both my hands die in battle, and you were reduced to a sobbing mess by a couple of mean words."

"Can't I at least die in peace without you insulting me?" Sakura whines.

"_No_," Ino snaps, "you're not dying until I'm finished."

"Fine."

She pauses to check her anger before continuing. "If you had continued like that you would have died before puberty, I was sure. I did my best to try and prepare you, or at least teach you some self-confidence, but all I did was make you grow dependent on me. I couldn't resist the urge to protect you, even while I was trying to teach you to protect _yourself_."

She takes Sakura's silence as encouragement. Either that or she died already. Ino doesn't dwell on it.

"When you came up to me that day to break our friendship I had already decided to let it happen. If I couldn't help you by protecting you, then I had to let you grow up on your own. Even if it meant pretending to fall in love with Mister Avenger. I cared about you too much to risk letting you get hurt. Not that it was completely selfless," Ino adds as an afterthought. "I was hurt that you'd dump me for that asshole, and the idea of being as attached to you as I was and letting you run out in the field and potentially get yourself killed…"

She drifts off, waiting for Sakura to respond.

Sakura, meanwhile, is lost in a haze, her mind floating off somewhere outside her body. She tries to recall all these events, tries to tie Ino's explanations into them, but it doesn't seem conceivable.

"So what you're telling me…" Sakura looks up now, her eyes clearer and more serious than before, "is that my entire life you pretended to hate me to _help_ me?"

"Well, kind of-"

"What you're _telling me is_," Sakura interrupts suddenly, pushing herself up onto her knees, "you never really liked Sasuke at all. You let that rumor spread so that I'd end our friendship, because you _knew_ it would force me to learn to stand on my own? You're saying our _entire_ relationship is resting on a foundation of my idiocy and your lies?" Ino begins to wonder if this was such a good idea; the intensity of Sakura's tone doesn't sound promising.

"In a sense, yes, but-"

"Just to be _clear_," the glass makes an ugly pile on the floor as Sakura extracts the shards of it from her torso, and her voice is harsh with disbelief, "our entire lives you have picked fights with me, bullied me, hurt me over and over _and over_ again, for my own good? Really you've pushed aside your feelings to make sure that I'd have room to grow up outside of your shadow?"

Ino goes to stutter an answer, but Sakura doesn't pause.

"So all the bullshit aside, in reality _our whole lives_ you've been pretending to be in love with _him _when really you've just been- when really you're- when this _entire_ time-"

"I've been in love with _you_? That sounds about right."

_Bang_.

The second bullet goes off, and somewhere in the world a stage explodes into life. There is no time between Ino's last word and her first real kiss, and it is as soft and tender and as _agonizingly hopeful_ as she had ever imagined, and it tastes like blood and feels like brutal honesty and Ino knows the force of it will leave a bruise on her soul that won't heal before they are both dead and buried.

"I'm sorry," Ino says when she can breathe and see and feel and hear the real world again. Sakura does not offer an explanation or a reaction for anything.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I never meant to tell you any of this, that's all. I was fine being in the background; all I wanted was to be close enough to make sure you weren't going to die. I thought if I kept my distance you would keep pushing yourself, but when you showed up at my apartment asking me to help you I didn't know what to do."

Sakura puts her hand up in a shushing motion, shaking her head. "Don't apologize. Naruto and Sasuke taught me something very important while I was with them- and don't make that face, this is the last time I'll mention him."

Ino grudgingly wipes off the open disgust on her face.

"I will be much, much, _much_ stronger if you'll let me fight _for_ you instead of against you. I'll understand if you'd rather not after everything that's happened over the past six months, but if you'll let me, I promise-"

"If you go to lunch with me and maybe help me buy new shoes, since your bodily fluids have destroyed mine," Ino interjects, trying to sound annoyed but failing a little bit, "I might consider it."

"I think I can manage that."

Blood and glass and tears, but at least out in the open now, Ino feels that maybe they've both dodged a bullet here.

The ending is different this time.

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Reviews are greatly appreciated! I'm always looking to improve. And also shamelessly begging for compliments. :D


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